


He Doesn't like the Beach

by jjournal



Category: Marvel
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjournal/pseuds/jjournal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the knock his father always grated on his door. His heavy bones thudding against the wood, muffled with layers of skin.<br/>Thick flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Doesn't like the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> No actual descriptions of rape but it alludes to it strongly. If this isn't your cup of tea, I wouldn't go near it. 
> 
> As for his age, it's not really clear, so it's up to interpretation really.

Tony pushed through the haze in his mind as a result of oversleeping. He groaned and rolled off the bed but then froze in his movements when someone started knocking loudly on the door of his room.

It was a distinct knock. The knock of somebody who knew what they wanted, that they were going to get it, and that what they were doing was just a formality- an ingrained habit they twisted to signal their arrival without any of the intentions the original action was born to convey. 

It was the knock his father grated on his door with the sound of his heavy bones thudding against the wood, muffled with layers of skin.  
Thick flesh. 

Contradictorily, his own heart started thumping to the same beat. Thudded against the ribcage of his chest. Muffled with layers of muscle and skin.  
Fat and fluid.  
But bore none of that distinct confidence the knock had. 

Soon enough, the beating stopped and he watched, frozen between throwing off the bed sheets and cowering under them, as the gold door knob shook and then turned slowly. 

If he had better vision, he might have been able to see his own terrified visage reflected on the shiny surface of the knob.

As it was, his eye sight was normal, only hazy if he was tired- and if his head rang.

\- His head was ringing now. Bells clanging in his ears, reverberating the small hairs, making them scream with the screech that accompanied the door opening.

Jarvis had suggested oiling it.

_You've already spent all the oil on your hair._

He controlled the upturn of his lips as his father walked in. His black shoes taking careful stock of the mess on the floor.

A mess he'd carefully constructed every night. 

One of the shoes purposefully- there was no other way- stepped on one of his older toys. It was the perfect toy, sharp, noisy... But it didn't deter him. 

It's cracked pieces scattered across the wooden floor and the shoe continued like it was an ordinary instance. Like it didn't try so hard to avoid it most often.

His mother must be out.

He swallowed and his sheets were shaking in time to his own quakes. He could pretend it was a white ocean but it's tides were too quiet.

It's waves too weak as a hand reached towards it and pulled it off of him in an instance. 

"Tony."

His eyes, he could forgive the shaking because they made no difference, his eyes though, they betrayed him first. They burned and filled with salty water. 

The sting of the ocean. His father loved to push him under the water of the sea. On the quiet beach days.

When he'd least expect it. Force him under the warm water until he had to open his eyes, had to swallow gulps of the salty charge. When he was almost done he'd get pulled out. He'd splutter and gasp for air but Howard would look at him with a glint in his eye. He loved the red sting of the sea.

He loved it then. And he loves it now.

One of the tears escape and roll down his cheek. Howard's thumb captures it before it falls and forces it into Tony's mouth.


End file.
